Chapter 19: The Assignment

Months had passed since Daniel joined his team and started training with the Spearman’s Consortium, and it had been a blur of intense drills, sparring, and group missions. Daniel had even reached level three. Now, the real test had arrived. After emerging as one of the most responsible teams, their first higher-threat assignment came from reports of strange cult activity deeper in the forest, closer to the Fae Wilds. The mission briefing was simple: infiltrate the cult’s hideout, neutralise the threat, and return. Simple in words, but everyone knew that venturing that far into the forest carried its own risks.

The morning sun was barely cresting the horizon as Daniel adjusted his spear on his back, giving one last tug to make sure it was securely strapped. He glanced over at the rest of his team: Seraphina, with her calm demeanour and warm smile, Tristan, still fidgeting nervously with his weapon, despite having made steady progress, and of course, Faelar, looking as disdainful as ever.

"Try not to trip over your own feet this time, Riverton," Faelar sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "It’s embarrassing for the rest of us."

Tristan blushed, his grip tightening on his spear. "I... I won’t. It's been over two weeks since my last... accident."

Daniel sighed, stepping between the two before Faelar could goad Tristan any further. "Faelar, come on man, have a day off. We’re all nervous enough without you adding to it. Besides," Daniel shot him a grin, "you’ll need him to cover your back when you get stuck admiring your reflection in a puddle."

Seraphina chuckled softly at that, and even Tristan managed a nervous smile. Faelar, on the other hand, just sniffed in disdain and turned away, muttering something about the incompetence of commoners.

Before Daniel could respond, Roderic, their wolf-man team leader and the Spearman’s Consortium captain, stepped forward. The Lycanys warrior towered over them all, his presence commanding. His gaze swept over the group, lingering on each of them as if measuring their readiness.

"Enough chatter," Roderic growled, his voice as rough as gravel. "This isn’t some routine patrol. We’re heading into unknown territory, and you’ll need to stay focused. Keep your formation tight, watch each other’s backs, and don’t do anything stupid. I’m here to oversee, not to save your hides if you mess up."

His gaze shifted briefly to Faelar, whose eyes flickered with irritation. "We move out now. Stick close."

Without further delay, the group set off, marching deeper into the forest. The thick canopy overhead cast long shadows across the path, the air growing cooler and more oppressive the further they went. The usual sounds of the forest—birdsong, rustling leaves—faded, replaced by an eerie silence and creeping humming sensation.

Daniel could feel the tension in the air, the weight of something unnatural hanging over them. He tightened his grip on his spear, trying to steady the nerves that bubbled just beneath the surface.

"It’s too quiet," Seraphina said softly, her eyes scanning the dense foliage.

"Probably just the forest holding its breath in anticipation of legendary warriors in action," Daniel offered, trying to lighten the mood.

Faelar snorted. "Or maybe it’s sensing the cocky, unskilled peasants mucking about in places they don’t belong."

Daniel shot him a glare. "I don’t think the forest is that judgmental, Fael-ure."

Roderic halted abruptly, raising a hand for silence. The group stilled, every sense on high alert. Ahead, just beyond the tree line, they could make out the faint glow of aetheric energy. It pulsed faintly, like the heartbeat of the forest itself, but there was something wrong about it—something tainted.

"There," Roderic whispered, pointing to a stone structure partially hidden by thick vines. "That’s the hideout. Tighten up, and for the love of the Gods, stop bickering. You are supposed to be professionals. Act like it."

The entrance to the dungeon was crude, nothing more than a gaping hole in the earth, flanked by ancient stone pillars which were etched with strange, glowing runes. Cultists.

Daniel felt his pulse quicken as they approached, the eerie hum of aether growing louder with each step. He could feel it thrumming in the air, thick and oppressive, like a storm about to break.

"We go in fast, keep it clean," Roderic instructed. "You’ve trained for this. Stick together, neutralise any threats, and do not—" he looked pointedly at Faelar, then Daniel "—get overconfident."

Faelar’s lips twitched, but he said nothing as Daniel nodded solemnly.

As they descended into the dungeon, the air grew colder, the walls narrowing around them. Daniel’s heart pounded in his chest, his hand gripping his spear tightly. The light of their torches flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced along the stone walls. The sense of foreboding only grew stronger the deeper they went, the distant sounds of chanting now reaching their ears.

They rounded a corner, and there, in a large chamber illuminated by sickly green light, stood a group of cultists. Their figures were cloaked in dark robes, hoods pulled low over their faces, they stood in a circle around a raised stone platform, upon which lay a twisted, pulsating crystal of pure aetheric corruption.

The aether leaking from the crystal seemed to warp the very air around it, thickening it with an oppressive weight. A cold, suffocating pressure settled over Daniel, as if the atmosphere itself had grown too dense to breathe. He could feel it pressing down on him, a heavy chill sinking into his bones. Glancing at his comrades, he noticed the strain etched on their faces—they were struggling with the same crushing force, perhaps even more so than he was.

"There," Roderic whispered. "That’s our first target. Disrupt the ritual, take them down."

Without another word, the group sprang into action. Daniel charged forward alongside Tristan, while Faelar and Seraphina flanked from the sides. Roderic hung back, watching carefully, his spear ready should things go south.

The cultists reacted with surprising speed, turning to face their attackers. Dark tendrils of corrupted aether lashed out, but Daniel was ready, dodging to the side and driving his spear forward into the nearest cultist. The tip of the spear pierced through the robed figure’s chest, and the cultist crumpled to the ground with a choked gurgle.

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"Nice shot!" Seraphina called out as she blocked a strike from another cultist, her shield absorbing the blow before she retaliated with a swift counterattack.

Tristan, to his credit, managed to hold his own, the extra hours put into honing his agility and form clearly starting to pay dividends. Faelar, meanwhile, was a blur of motion, his strikes precise and deadly as he cut through cultists with practised ease.

But just as Daniel started to think they had the upper hand, a sudden, powerful surge of aether washed over them, nearly knocking him off his feet. He stumbled back, eyes widening as the source of the surge stepped forward from the shadows.

An elite cultist, far larger than the others, his body crackling with dark energy.

"Oh, fantastic," Daniel muttered, raising his spear. "I knew there would be a boss fight."

The elite cultist snarled, raising a staff that pulsed with malevolent energy. Dark tendrils shot out toward them, but Daniel managed to dodge the attack with his spear ready, though the force of the blast passing him sent a jolt through his entire body. "Holy hell, I cannot get hit by that. Jesus Christ," he thought as his heart raced.

The fight was brutal, the elite cultist proving to be far stronger than any of them had anticipated. Every strike Daniel landed seemed to barely faze the monstrous figure, and its attacks were fast and relentless, causing minor wounds to both Daniel and Faelar.

Tristan and Seraphina were readily putting the remaining fodder down as Daniel shared a quick look with Faelar, indicating the duo needed to work together, as practised. Without words, the pair began to work in tandem, one creating an opening for the other to take as they attacked from opposing sides. Despite the physical prowess of the behemoth before them, it started to become predictable and began to fall into the traps laid by the rivals.

Daniel would send an obvious strike to the face of the cultist, Faelar reacting the second it raised its arms to block and thrusting his own spear into its knee. As the elite reacted to grab its knee in pain with one hand, swiping another claw at Faelar, which he only narrowly dodged the brunt of, taking a moderately deep scratch to his cheek, Daniel swirled around to its back, sending a powerful thrust to the neck, attempting to sever its spine. The large cultist was so resilient, however, that the thrust barely drew blood, but did serve to draw its ire.

As the cultist turned to fend off Daniel's assault, Faelar maintained a perfect counter position to Daniel. The elite began to wind up a meteoric punch as Faelar unleashed a ferocious sweep the second Daniel leapt three meters into the air, twirling his spear point to face down. Faelar momentarily glanced at Daniel, seemingly not entirely disgusted by his performance.

The elite cultist fell back in surprise, cratering the ground beneath it and within a second, Daniel landed his gravity-aided blow straight through its right eye, piercing the softer flesh with ease and continuing through the brain.

The cultist let out a bloodcurdling scream as the dark energy surrounding it dissipated, and it went limp—lifeless. Faelar took no chances and buried a strike underneath its chin to complete the manoeuvre.

Daniel withdrew his spear despite some resistance from the corpse as Faelar stood up straight after retrieving his own weapon. The pair shared an understated nod in what was likely the first show of mutual respect between the duo.

"Good work, Faelar, we'll make a spearman of you yet," Daniel joked, scanning the area to note that Tristan and Seraphina had indeed cleared the rest of the lower ranked cultists.

"Augh, I'm going to need a higher strength attribute to keep carrying you through these skirmishers, Gailor. My back is sore."

Daniel felt an exhilarating rush as the power from the kill seeped into his Experience Well, the familiar feeling of a level-up becoming apparent. Despite the feelings of awe and amazement, Daniel knew there wasn't time to sit around and bask in the sensation, so he condensed his aether and funnelled the resulting energy into his usual attribute node combination.

Daniel began by channelling thirty percent of his newly-acquired aether into his Vitality Node. The sensation was immediate—his skin seemed to tighten ever so slightly, a subtle but unmistakable sign of his body’s growing resilience. His blood surged through his veins with newfound efficiency, leaving him feeling more grounded and durable, as if every cell was awakening to a sharper sense of purpose.

Next, he directed another thirty percent into his Strength Node. The transformation was almost eerie. His muscles became denser—not larger, but imbued with a palpable solidity that made them feel like tempered steel under his skin. He tightened his grip around his spear, the weapon now an extension of his being, its weight nothing compared to the raw power coursing through him.

He then funnelled twenty percent into his Stamina Node. The aether spread like wildfire, banishing his fatigue in an instant. His body felt invigorated, his stamina replenishing faster with every breath. The weight of exhaustion that had clung to him moments before was gone, replaced by a sense of boundless energy ready to be unleashed.

Finally, the last twenty percent flowed into his Agility Node. The change was electrifying. His body responded faster, more sharply to his thoughts, as if his nerves had been rewired for instant reaction. His limbs felt lighter, as though he could move faster, strike more swiftly, and evade with effortless grace.

He also felt the automatic base allocation seep into his other attributes, which provided marginal, without being earth-shattering improvements to his mental faculties.

Panting heavily, wiping the sweat from his brow, Daniel breathed, "Okay... that was intense."

Roderic approached, his expression unreadable. "Not bad," he said gruffly. "You’re growing fast. That level four?"

Faelar shook his head in frustration, "How are you levelling so quickly? It doesn't make any sense."

Daniel nodded his head towards Roderic but remained silent, unsure how to answer the ponderings of Faelar. He was sure it was a benefit of 'The Blood,' but could hardly just mention that in passing.

Tristan, watching from the sidelines, meekly posed a question to their commander as he nursed a long but shallow scratch across his chest, his leather armour parted to expose the superficial wound. "Why didn’t you help?" His eyes pointed at Roderic. "You could have used a skill—shown us how it’s done."

Roderic’s eyes darkened. "It’s not my job to hold your hand, Tristan. I’m here to oversee, not to fight your battles for you. How do you expect to grow by simply watching me do the hard yards?"

"Well, showing us skills would have a better impact than simply admiring us," Faelar chimed in, his voice containing a hint of frustration. "I could have—"

"No," Roderic interrupted, his tone firm. "For a start, there was very little to admire; you barely scraped through without a serious injury and that big guy was dumber than a sack of hammers. You took way too long to use team tactics against an obviously stronger foe. Plus, skills aren’t something you should just mimic, Faelar. When you gain a skill naturally, the knowledge comes with it anyway. It’s passed through the aether once the Skill Node is formed. You’ll know what it does, how to use it. But if you rely on others too early, you won’t build the instincts you need to survive and develop. Don’t be so eager to skip the hard part."

Faelar glared at him but said nothing.

"Come on," Roderic said, turning back toward the exit. "We’re done here. Let’s move, see who is behind this."

As the group made their way through the initial cavern, Daniel couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. They had faced a real challenge and came out stronger for it. And as much as Faelar’s constant arrogance grated on him, Daniel knew that they were, at the very least, starting to function like a team.

Still, as the shadows of the Fae Wilds loomed back in the distance, Daniel couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far more dangerous.